


Just a talk while the storm rages

by Twilight_Shadow_Songs



Series: This is Dragon Country [2]
Category: game of thrones, Он – дракон | I Am Dragon (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 10:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18776299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twilight_Shadow_Songs/pseuds/Twilight_Shadow_Songs
Summary: Dragons are people too, man!Aka Arman talking to Jon and Tyrion because they are more reasonable.





	1. Freaks of a Feather

**Author's Note:**

> I had to give Miroslava and Arman a house name. And a name for Their kingdom. In my head they exist several miles out to sea away from the North but experience the harsh winters. Their family crest is a silver fox. Arman took Mira’s Family name, I doubt he had one and he can’t use “of the house of dragons” so

Tyrion was glad to know in these winter bound islands he’d only heard whispers of there was still a pub with ale so strong it could wilt an evergreen. It was a raging snowstorm outside and while Daenerys schmoozed the dragon off the young queen he would sit here and drink. 

“Barkeep, I am looking for the companions for the mother of dragons” there was quite a bit of humor in that sentence and Tyrion turned to see a young man in nothing but loose pants paw snow out of his hair as he talked to the pub’s owner. Tyrion sighed and slid down out of his chair and walked to the boy that was 70% leg and lean muscle. 

“I am one, sir…?” He knew if it was someone of lower class then there would be no reverent bordering on malicious looks like the boy was getting. The boy turned and smiled at him and gave a small bow. 

“Queen’s consort, Arman Elvwight, of the house Elvwight. My queen and wife Meraslava would like to invite you to our table tomorrow. As a sign of good will, she sent me” 

Tyrion didn’t think his eyebrows could go up any further. A queen in charge wasn’t a big deal. But a man Willingly being consort? And furthermore. She sent her husband alone to invite him? These were an odd sort. 

“I assume my lady will be meeting us then?”

“We would like to talk to you and the boy, Jon Snow. Without her. She dines with us tonight. But Meraslava will not see her in her court again without one of you”

“Exactly what did she do?”

The boy snorted, looking like there were several things he wanted to say but would not. 

“If you would prefer lodgings in the castle, I will take you there” Tyrion looked at the boy and then pointedly at his drink. The man snorted and the barkeep laughed. 

“Listen outsider, you’re only getting the watered down shit from the castle. Queen Meraslava’s sister from the neighboring islands brews this so strong, it eats through oak” Tyrion processed this. 

“Bad manners not to finish a drink however. Arman is it? Will you sit a while?” Arman shrugged. 

“I’ll not be required in the hall in any case. Mera said she’d skin me to make boots if I walked you out in the worst of it anyway. And I don’t see Lord Snow so I might as well wait” 

He followed Tyrion, who noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes and yet had no signs of frostbite. Tyrion was starting to wonder if Arman was even human.

They settled in chairs by the fire and Arman watched him with dark and curious eyes. “Never seen a dwarf before?” He asked gruffly. 

“I have, but not recently. I don’t judge by birth status, my lord. You could be a man with a fish’s tail and horns like a ram. I would still treat you like a man with thoughts and input. Most of the people here in the FrostKeep Islands would my lord. We very rarely judge on what you are” he paused “unless you are a dragon. Once worshipped as deities and then fell into obscurity, there is a bit of distrust between”

“Is that why Daenerys isn’t liked?” He set his cup down, watching the boy intently. Arman smiled at him. 

“It doesn’t help. But attempting to force our queen to part with a dragon is what did it”

“So your view on dragons is complicated”

Arman shrugged and drew a pattern on his chair arm. “My view is that if she keeps not feeding my cousin right she will leave without any dragons at all, and possibly no head. The poor fledgling may never grow to full size. She thinks she’s from a house of dragons?” His face grew dark and thoughtful. “She hasn’t seen a true dragon lord, not at all”

Tyrion stared at him. “Your cousin?” 

Arman smirked at him. “Sometimes we can take human form. I was here on the isle of dragons long before my brothers died off. I could not control myself then, but you should see me now” he paused and glanced behind Tyrion before getting up with a smile. “Do keep this between you and I and Daenerys. I would like to tell Snow myself and watch his face”

“And you were courteous of me because?”

Arman gave him a strange look. “Fellow freaks should not be enemies, don’t you think? Do join us tomorrow. Bring Snow. We might reach an agreement” he bowed to the man behind Tyrion’s chair (Jon if he had to wager) and walked back to the screaming wall of snow out the door. 

“That is not a normal man” Jon said. Tyrion nodded distractedly. Hatching dragons was one thing but marrying one? These islanders were rather insane.


	2. It’s not a euphemism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is an idiot and Arman loves his family

“There is something wrong with Meraslava’s husband”

“Mhm”

“You might not notice-“

“Oh believe me Snow, I am _very_ much aware the man isn’t normal. However we are his guests and I would rather not upset him and his wife, hm?” Despite having several tankards in him Tyrion’s speech was barely slurred. Jon frowned at his companion. 

“I knew these islands, we traded with them. I have never heard of Arman before we got news of Meraslava having a dragon. Yet he sounds like a native…”

“Meraslava is operating by her own rules if the talk of her people is anything to go by. She might have married a commoner from another island. Do her sisters not rule them?”

Jon nodded, brow furrowed. Some of the islander males preferred little clothes in the cold, but no shoes? He didn’t have time to think however, as a young girl in dark clothes similar to Meraslava’s appeared at the entrance. Her hair and eyes were dark like Arman’s, and the tresses wild. He had a sudden memory of Arya and swallowed down his sadness. 

“Lord Snow and Lord Lannister? My mother and father once more invite you to stay at our hold. Mother would like to speak to you, Lord Lannister, and father wants to address a matter with Snow. Who I think has a silly name. You are _not_ a very fitting bearer. Daenerys however. Her hair is white” 

Jon’s mouth twisted into a smile and he bowed to the girl. “A fitting observation. Am I addressing Lady Mavka?” The girl beamed at him and nodded for them to follow. After a moment, they did.

“Mother would like to know how to keep the Nothing Queen out of the family rooms”

“Nothing Queen?”

“I call her that. She isn’t so impressive”

Jon looked at her. “She has a dragon”

“Our dragon is bigger”

Tyrion smiled and glanced at an appalled Jon before turning to the girl as they braced for the cold air of the town. “I noticed your people preparing, what is the celebration?”

“The dragon marriages. Which is really just the men marrying their girls. My cousin will have hers as well. Mother oversees it as grandfather is gone to the far shores” Tyrion glanced At Jon.

“The far shores are the lands of the dead. The water and weather is everything on these islands. The far shores are warm lands with no fog and golden ale” 

Tyrion smiled at Mavka. “So how does one get married here?”

“The man pulls the woman over on a boat hand carved. She died to her old life and lives anew with her husband” Mavka made a slight face. “I would rather have a battle to find myself a husband and carry _him_ over on the boat. Mother says possibly, so I train with my sword Bonebiter just in case” 

Truly truly like Arya. Jon watched the girl, with a mixture of nostalgia and slight panic. The strong girls who fought as well as men didn’t seem to last long as of recently. He was hoping Mavka would not end up another fatality in this war.

“Your parents must be proud” Tyrion said and Mavka looked over her shoulder at him, deep eyes seeming to blaze in the weak sunlight.

“Very my lord. Mother likes that I know my own mind and father is happy I am willing to go to any length for my own happiness”

They lapsed into silence as the princess led them to her family’s keep. It was hardly more than a fortress with wide balconies and open walls, but the girl called it the frozen palace. Jon smiled. A better palace than others he had seen to be honest. Meraslava was there to meet them and Arman grabbed his daughter and threw her high in the air despite her being a fairly tall child and he appearing scrawny and very thin. Again Jon’s mind went to ‘There is Something Not Right About Arman’ he turned to Tyrion, who for his part only looked awed by the unusual amount of affection showed by the family to possible enemies. 

“Snow. Would you mind speaking with me? The evening meal is being prepared” Arman looked proud of himself. “I went hunting and the elk is quite large”

“How fresh is it” Jon asked and Arman’s smile got bigger. 

“It was still twitching when I took it to the kitchens this morning”

That was...well not quite disturbing but…

“Shall we speak in the hall, lord Snow?”

Jon’s head felt off from the mental whiplash but he followed the man to a large open area with many fires lighting it. A few men and women were in there as well, and greeted Arman before going back to their conversations. Arman sat at a table a distance from them and beckoned for Jon to sit beside him. Jon sat beside him, again noticing Arman’s lack of dress. A loose tunic with beadwork at the hem and collar and pants that were loose and of a very light fabric. No shoes. In comparison Jon had several layers and a pelt on his shoulders as well as wool socks and heavy boots. 

“Your lady requires dragons”

“She is not my lady, but she does require your dragon yes”

“I feel she has gone mad my lord. If she is not your lady you should cut ties when you can” Jon looked at him and Arman hesitated and sighed. 

“So it’s that then” Jon allowed the silence to stretch on and looked around. FrostKeep was known for woodcarving, beadwork and fine lace. He could see the delicate work in every wooden surface, and the bead work on Arman’s clothes were incredible. “What will she do to obtain what she wants?”

Jon started and looked at Arman. “Burn your islands to ash. Allow her men to do as they wished to your people I would assume. Your daughter would die unless found a husband to secure as a puppet monarch, though perhaps without use of a tongue”

Arman’s face twisted into a smile. “She does have a tongue in her head. My little clever girl” 

He stared at the man who seemed unbothered by the idea of his daughter dying or used to secure the islands. 

At Jon’s face Arman laughed. “My daughter would kill her suitors presented on the wedding night. And when you attempt to kill her would slip through your hand like fog in a hot sun” Jon snorted. 

“My lord my daughter and I are quite good at blending in when we want” 

“About the war my lord”

“If we were to join with Daenerys Stormborn lord Snow, I would need a rider who could take part in the battle” the way he was looking at Jon made him shift away from the man. 

“I’m not”

“My lord, I am the dragon”

Jon didn’t get it. Was he a Targaryen? Most likely if he was he would be illegitimate but-

“I breathe fire and fly and my daughter’s handle of her sword is made with a tooth. I was a boy when the dragons were at their height and a boy then they died off. _I am the dragon_ ”

“Have you been drinking?”

Arman raised an eyebrow (his face was too pretty to be a native, his body looked like a statue come to life and why was Jon noticing this?)

“Mikhail, my friend” he called and a man looked from across the way and came over. 

“My lord?”

Arman stood and walked to one of the doors leading outside as he began pulling his shirt off. 

“Lord Snow is being quite thick and I need to prove a point” 

“Again? You are not dressed for the occasion”

“We ran out of drapery”

By this time he was naked and Mikhail held his clothes as the boy walked onto the bridge and then leapt into the air, causing an explosion and-

“He’s the dragon?!”

“I feel he already told you my lord Snow” Mikhail said. 

“I thought he was...well…”

“Forgive me lord but I feel you are not quite his type in bed partners” 

Jon could only stare at the flying creature-no, _Arman_ overhead. Somehow he, though never having truly thought about men like that before, was disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the daughter has a name I forgot it. Correct me if I forgot and I will edit to remedy this error. I feel with a dragon for a parent he wishes to have her be deadly as any fire breather but with other tools. Her tongue, her looks, her sword. And Mera probably encourages it because her baby will marry who she loves and no other.


End file.
